


Ten Things He'd Rather Be Doing

by Izzerslololol



Series: Mereel and the Galaxy [2]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Gen, Mandalorian, Mando'a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-14
Updated: 2008-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzerslololol/pseuds/Izzerslololol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he waited, patient, composed, ARC N-7 entertained himself with the things he'd make priority when the war was over. Or even before, if he could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Things He'd Rather Be Doing

Mereel leaned against the heavy table, arms crossed, staring at the closed armory door. He had no nervous twitch, no irritatingly repetitive movement to perform as the seconds ticked past. It was only a matter of time before the fully loaded Jedi General exited the room.

He turned around and sliced a chunk off the nerf roast. The rough texture was a comfort in his mouth and settled his angry stomach – if only temporarily.

Oh, there were other things he’d rather be doing.

 _Aay’han,_ for instance, could do with more tinkering. And though he finished the manual a full chapter ahead of Ordo, there were sections of the defense system he wanted to… explore further.

Ice fishing came to him next. Specifically with a separate submersible designed exactly for that purpose, and hunting _fish_ that, if he were successful, would offer enough meat to feed a family for one standard year.

He wanted to flex his bare fists around the cold metal handle of the nerf prod and watch the Kaminoan _aiwha-bait_ convulse under a thousand volts, screaming her high pitched wail beyond human hearing.

The wooden table cracked under his grip.

Mereel leaned over and sliced off another chunk of meat.

Maybe he ought to give _Gi’ka_ a new paint job – he had an intimidating face in mind, complete with fanged jaws and bloodshot eyes – similar to what he often saw several clone pilots do with their LAAT/i.

And the datapads called to him, in the way inanimate objects could be both demanding and distracting – and in this case, begging – to be combed and collated for relevant data, again. But he had to leave them alone for now. There was no new information to go on, and blind searching only fueled his frustration.

The handle of the knife felt smooth in his palm. Part of the tough meat, still speared at the end, dribbled small droplets of red sauce to the floor.

From a perverse place he wondered how Ko Sai’s heart would feel, still beating, in his hand. Would she live long enough for him to show it to her?

A shudder crept down his spine. He loosened his white-knuckled grip and popped the nerf chunk in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Mereel wanted to go back to Coruscant and see Fi. And make sure newly promoted Commando Corr got on well enough with the rest of Omega Squad. Both thoughts were irrational, he knew.

On the one hand, there was nothing he could do for Fi. On the other, Corr had trained and traveled with him on more than a few occasions. The man was more than ready for anything, and Omega Squad’s members were nothing if not welcoming. _Vode an,_ indeed.

The armory door did not budge under his intense stare. Behind him, the roast nerf leg dwindled in size.

It occurred to him that he hadn’t yet enjoyed a Mon Cal Opera in full. Of the few times he’d found himself inside one of many prestigious Opera Houses, the mission took precedence over his vacationing goals.

_An Opera would be a nice change. Maybe Etain would like to come along._

He smiled sardonically to himself. Yeah, the next time he passed by _cultured society,_ a Mon Cal Opera was at the top of his list.

A hiss cut through the silence as the armory door cycled open, revealing a disgruntled, heavily pregnant Jedi. Instantly his eyes were drawn to the bump, and he couldn’t help but smile. Babysitting little Venku jumped to the top of his list of _Things He’d Rather Be Doing._

But, like everything else, it’d have to wait.


End file.
